


sound the bugle now, tell them i don't care

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, ace!murphy, bellamy x murphy is my brotp, murphy never went with "i'm on drugs" jaha, octavia is a bamf, so is raven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:55:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>after clarke leaves, bellamy isn't himself. everything falls apart at the stitching without clarke.<br/>(pointless multichapter bellarke angst with a nice touch of my sweet trash prince murphy and bellamy being best bros and badass ladies.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	sound the bugle now, tell them i don't care

**Author's Note:**

> my writing is horrible and i'll probably delete this within an hour of posting it but?? yolo  
> feedback is greatly appreciated and will probably save me from worrying if i should update this or not

The words hung in his throat as Clarke faded from his view, his scrambled brain making a desperate attempt to go after her, tell her exactly what he'd felt in that mountain when he heard her voice over the radio, what he'd felt when she hugged him as if he was going to die the next day.  
Instead, he stood, frozen, barely recognizing the fact that a few tears had slipped from his eyes, which were quickly wiped away.

It felt like hours before he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder, which he quickly recognized as Octavia. She had wiped her face clean of all the smudged black makeup, blood, and dirt. Her hair hung in loose waves, freshly washed and freed from the grounder braids, except for an ornate one around the crown of her head, which he suspected came from Lincoln.

"You've been here for two hours, Bell. Just let her have some space." Octavia said gently. "Give her some space? She's going to _die_ out there, Octavia." he snapped, shaking her hand from his shoulder, shoving it away. "Clarke is strong enough to take care of herself. I've seen it firsthand." she replied, giving her brother a sad smile before turning on her heel, shooting him a look over her shoulder. "Bellamy?" she added. He hummed in response, turning towards her. "She'll always come back to you." she assured, before walking back in to camp where she joined hands with Lincoln. Some distant flame of hope stirred in him, the faint idea of even getting to see her again gave him the will to try and make it through another day on this godforsaken planet, but the hope was quickly put out like a blanket over a fire when he shifted his glance to the tree covered hills. No one smart would go after her in that, but then again, Bellamy never thought of himself as that smart. 

* * *

It had been a week since Clarke left. Seven hopeless days of waiting by the gate, staring in to the forest long after it got dark, and long before the sun peeked over the trees. Nobody else seemed to understand why he'd waited there for so long, except for Murphy and Octavia. The first time Murphy approached him, Bellamy had punched him, then profusely apologized for it when the other man just shrugged and sat down on the grass next to him and started talking about his family life before he was arrested. 

After that, Bellamy would only leave the gate for his sister or Murphy, occasionally for Raven, but he still felt awkward around her, so any interaction with the mechanic was kept to a minimum. Most of his sleeping was done when it was forced, and even then, his sleep was shitty at best, with memories of the mountain torturing him every time he tried to close his eyes. Thankfully, Murphy understood this, and didn't try and treat him like he was fragile, like Abby did. Whenever they were both sleepless, laying awake in fear of what the nightmares might bring, they sat outside in the cooling autumn air, occasionally lighting a small fire.

Tonight was one of those nights, Bellamy decided, as he came to sit down on the ground, looking up as the sound of footsteps approached. "Hey, Lovebird." Murphy smiled down at Bellamy, before sitting down next to him in a fashion that could only be described as a "messy heap". "Nice to see you too, John." Bellamy greeted, tearing out the grass that lingered under his fingertips and tossing it on Murphy. "You sleep less than I do." the other boy said with a slight chuckle, pulling his arm around Bellamy, who gladly accepted the embrace, tilting his head on to the shorter man's shoulder. Staying silent, he eventually drifted to sleep, comforted by the simple feeling of having someone next to him.

For the first time since Clarke left, he'd managed to sleep through the night. He realized this when he raised his head, wincing at the stiffness in his next from sleeping with it on his friend's shoulder. "Morning." he greeted, his voice rough from sleep. "You passed out on me." Murphy pointed out. "And to think, I was just about to tell you about the time I painted a giant dinosaur in the sky, right from the Ark."

For the first time since Clarke left, he'd managed to laugh. 

But he still didn't want to eat, or go anywhere near anything that reminded him of Clarke, which was just about  _fucking everything_. It wasn't fair, really, how the simplest things, like the morning sunrise or the midday heat reminded him of her. The pain hadn't dulled after a month, he'd just become used to it. If anything, it was worse. Murphy had been sleeping better, and that meant that Bellamy really, really didn't want to bother him in the middle of the night, when the sheer anxiety of worrying about Clarke kept him up. He could almost hear her nagging voice, telling him the symptoms of sleep deprivation, prodding at him until they got under his skin. He'd give anything to have that back. 


End file.
